Complete and Utter Idiocy
by heyshalina
Summary: Iggy's been pretty irresponsible lately. Max decides to take matters into her own hands. Cue chaos. '"Iggy, is this stupid?" Max asked. He leaned closer. "Yeah. Really stupid."' Miggy. One-shot. R&R!


**A/N: Well, here it is. My first MR one-shot. I'm so excited. Thanks for taking the time to read it, and I really don't have much to say other than enjoy, and review! Yes, there is Miggy. There is some minor Fax as well. This story is basically to make you laugh. Let me know if it made you smile :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride. I am not James Patterson. I find this biologically impossible, so...I don't own.**

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><p>"IGGY!"<p>

Iggy snickered, smirking as he folded his hands behind his head. It was just so much _fun_ to set Max off. Might as well sit back and enjoy the show. He didn't exactly know _how_ bad the fire was, but most of the hair on his arms was gone. And if that's any representation, Iggy was going to have a great show. He propped his feet up on the coffee table, tilting his head back and sniggering some more. Exploding Max, in five, four, three, two—

"IGGY!" Max burst open the door and marched into the room. Was that fire Iggy smelled on her? Had she tried to put it out? Stupid. Max folded her arms, absolutely _furious_. Who in the world sets off a chemical fire in the forest behind their leader's mother's house and then proceeds to lie back on a recliner for a nap? Especially when said girl had saved his skinny white ass too many times to count? "You are the most _stupid_, _idiotic_, _irresponsible_ sexist little pig that I have _ever—_"

"Hey, Max?" Iggy interrupted her, holding up his hand with his trademark smirk. "Can you be quiet? I'm trying to listen to the game."

Max huffed, looked around, and then steamed again. "The TV's not on, you moron!"

Iggy's smile grew wider as he reached forward to grab the clicker, and then pointed it at the TV. He leaned back, closing his eyes.

"Now it is."

"IGGY—"

Iggy held up a finger to his lips. "Shh. Tom Brady just got a touchdown. The crowd's going wild."

"Iggy, the freaking TV's on mute!"

Iggy turned his head up to the raging girl, he unable to contain his laughter and her unable to keep the cuss words in. His smile spread wider (if that's even possible) and he nearly snorted.

"Your point?"

"IGGY GRIFFITHS YOU SEXIST IDIOTIC PIG I HATE YOUR GUTS! YOU STUPID WINGED FATHEAD WAIT UNTIL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!"

"Is that supposed to be sexual?"

"IGGY!"

Max dove across the coffee table, effectively knocking Iggy and his recliner to the floor. She pinned him down with her knees and wrapped her fingers around Iggy's long neck, squeezing threateningly and screaming at him. Even as he was being choked Iggy was cracking up, his smile still plastered on his face and his eyes twinkling deviously.

"WHY ARE YOU SO STUPID?" Max shrieked, her hair falling over her furious eyes. Why was he _laughing_? That idiotic pig of a boy, he was going to be so grounded!

Whoa. Maybe she was a mom.

"Why…are you…so bipolar?" Iggy choked out. "Are you…PMS-ing?"

Angry doesn't describe how Max felt. All she knew was that Iggy was the most irresponsible, obnoxious, irritating, annoying, idiotic boy in the world, and he needed his demise handed to him on a silver platter.

"Hey, Iggy."

"Yes, Maxie Dearest?"

"Prepare to die." Max hissed.

But in the middle of her throttling the most annoying being on the planet, Fang burst into the room, taking account of the sad situation with one sweeping glance. Suddenly Max was off of Iggy and in the air, still yelling at the boy and kicking out with her legs. Iggy leaned forward into a criss-cross-applesauce position, smirking again.

"Fang let me go!" Max ordered. "Let me go, let me at him!"

"What are you trying to do, kill him?" Fang asked, holding Max tighter.

"Let me at him!"

"She really wants me today." Iggy remarked, leaning one elbow on his fallen recliner. "Her hormones are raging."

"IGGY SHUT UP!"

"Whoa, calm yourself." Fang told her, and eventually Max settled for standing angrily beside Fang with her eyes like daggers and her arms crossed.

"Yeah, Max, don't get your panties in a twist." Iggy remarked. "You're going to need to get them off for Fang later."

Fang and Max both blushed fiercely, and they were both glad for once that Iggy was blind. Max took a deep breath, closing her eyes tight.

"Iggy, why are you so damn immature?"

"Why are _you_ so mature?"

"Why are you so trivial?"

"Why are you so serious?"

"WHY are you SO STUPID?"

"…'Cause it's fun."

Fang was chuckling to himself beside Max. "You know, he's got a point." He exclaimed.

Max hissed. "That's not the key issue right now. The key issue is that Iggy is the most idiotic, irresponsible jerk in the world, and we're fed up with his stupid and childish antics!"

Fang paused for a second, and then lowered himself down to whisper in Max's ear. "We are?"

Iggy cracked up on the floor, with his damned sensitive ears, and Max hit Fang on the arm.

"Yes, we are!" Max stressed. "And now things have to change around here, or my mom is going to kick us out, the police are going to arrest all six of us, and Iggy's going to live in a coffin!"

"Well that's a bit harsh, don't you think?" Iggy asked.

"No!" Max shouted. "Because you can't do one responsible thing for your life! You're so puerile! You wonder why we treat you like a little kid, but it's because you _are_ a little kid! You're a blind, strong, six-foot tall, fourteen-year-old baby!"

"Max." Fang warned, but Iggy had already jumped to his feet and stood not two feet away from the other, towering over both of the teenagers.

"Oh yeah?" Iggy asked. "I bet I _could_ be responsible, if I wanted to. More responsible than you and Fangy-poo, anyway. If you guys were even a little bit less responsible we'd have a Fangy Jr."

"Yeah?" Max shot back, steaming as much a Fang was blushing. "Well I bet that you couldn't be responsible if you even tried."

"I bet I could be completely responsible for a whole week."

"And I bet you can't."

"It's a bet." Iggy sneered. The two kids spit into their hands and shook on it. Max nonchalantly wiped the spit on the back of Fang's shirt, and he sent her a dirty look. "If I win, you have to cook for the flock for a whole week. And I get to eat take-out."

Max grimaced, and then replied. "If _I_ win, you have to go shopping with Nudge. For a whole day."

Iggy hissed in fear, and Fang smiled. "Then it's settled." He finalized, standing between Max and Iggy. "Even if I think it's stupid, bet on."

It all went downhill from there.

Needless to say, Iggy's chances of winning slipped from slim to none in a matter of days. There were many instances in which he should have lost the bet, but the rest of the flock wanted the bet to continue, to see Iggy strain himself not to do stupid things. Most of it was very entertaining.

For instance, there was the shower incident.

"IGGY GET IN THE FREAKING SHOWER!"

"No!"

Fang did a full-on rugby tackle on his brother, sending them both crashing to the floor. Max grabbed his arms while Nudge and Fang grabbed his legs, dragging him into the bathroom again.

"Just give me my ten bucks!" Iggy cried. "Give me my money!"

"I'm not going to pay you anymore to take a freaking shower!" Max retorted. "Either take a shower or go live with the wolves!"

"NO!"

The three teens dumped Iggy in the bathtub, and Max scrambled to turn the water on. Iggy lashed out with his limbs, hitting his siblings.

Max's hair hung in her face as the water poured down and her and Iggy, whom she was holding. "Iggy, stay _down_!"

"I want my money!" Iggy screamed. "We had an agreement!"

"Agreement my ass!"

Iggy kicked out again, catching both Fang and Nudge. Fang complained of internal bleeding, and Nudge lost her last baby tooth.

It was after this that Iggy demanded three strikes.

As Nudge spit out blood Max said he had already lost his first.

There were just some things one can't resist. There were many things Iggy found irresistible. The keys left in Dr. Martinez's car, for example. Iggy and Gazzy slipped out of their bedroom window and crawled down onto the pavement, each climbing into either side of the minivan and shaking with anticipation. Iggy clambered for the keys and turned them, the start of the engine earning a squeak from the Gasman. With Gasser's directions and some inspiring lyrics from Lady Gaga, the blind boy put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway at three in the morning.

Was he going to die?

Probably.

Was it worth it?

Hell freaking yeah.

"I can't believe Max won't let me drive!" Iggy shouted over the music. Gazzy was dancing in the passenger seat and almost exploding from his energy, occasionally yelling instructions to Iggy.

"I know, right?"

"I'm like, the best driver ever!" Iggy cried. "I haven't even hit anything! I am so awesome!"

"Yep!"

"And Max says this is hard! I mean, come on, this isn't hard at—"

"OH MY FREAKING GOD A BUNNY!"

"Agh!"

Gazzy's cries sent Iggy's hands off of the wheel, and the car over the curb and into the side of a garage. It just so happened to be Dr. Martinez's.

Whoops.

Max and the flock rushed into the garage, followed closely by Ella, Dr. M, and the dogs. Gazzy blushed fiercely, and Iggy did a face palm.

"I know, I'm stupid." Iggy sputtered. "But I—I can explain, I can—"

The airbags exploded into the two boy's faces.

"Iggy, you are _so_ dead!"

Of course he was.

And so went the second strike.

Max was feeling pretty elated on the fifth day. Just one more stupid act, and Iggy would be subject to a day of Nudge and clothes. And the mall. If she could randomly unleash a bout of maniacal laughter, she would. But that might have worried some people. Oh, what the hell. Max jumped down the stairs three at a time and swung into the kitchen.

"Hungry, hungry, what to eat?" Max said in a sing-song voice, combing the refrigerator and cabinets for some food. What could anyone do about a household of avian hybrids that ate constantly, other than go to the grocery store everyday? "Iggy, there's nothing to eat! Come make me pie!"

And then she saw them. Her vision narrowed, and all Max could see were the four-dozen pieces of heaven cooling on a rack beside the window.

Within three seconds five cookies were down Max's throat. Max stuffed them down, and after seven she turned around to get some milk, only to see Iggy lounged on the doorway with his arms crossed.

"You bellowed?" he asked. Max walked back to the refrigerator and popped it open, laying her handful of cookies on the counter.

"Yeah." Max mumbled, before swallowing so that Iggy could understand her. "But I found cookies. The world is right again."

Max poured some milk and circled the counter again, grabbing her cookies. She went to walk past Iggy and up the stairs, but he stopped her.

"Max." Iggy sighed. "I've been thinking…"

"Whoa, there's a shocker."

Iggy ignored her. "We…we need to talk."

Max sighed and plopped her things back on the counter again. "About what?"

"About…the bet. I don't think I can do it." Iggy admitted.

_Score_, Max thought, but decided to keep going with her smartass comments. She turned on a ridiculous British accent. "And what might possibly keep the oh-so-responsible Iggy Griffiths from completing his task? Because I do believe he and I had made a deal."

Iggy muttered something, but Max didn't catch it.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"You." Iggy muttered. "I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I can't get it out of my head, and this bet, and you, and…I'm just going to shut up."

"No." Max replied, confused. "What's up?"

"I—I'm just going to do it." Iggy said, halfway to himself. "I don't care what anyone says, I'm just going to do it."

"What, Iggy?"

Iggy stepped closer. "Hypothetically…if I told you I, er, _liked_ you, what would you, uh, say back to…me?"

Max smirked. "Well, first off, I didn't even know you knew how to pronounce the word hypothetically. And as for the rhetorical question, well…I would tell you that you are completely insane."

"And why is that?" Iggy asked, coming even closer.

"Iggy, why are you here?"

Iggy leaned over Max, butterflies shooting through his stomach. "Because."

Max tilted her head up as Iggy turned his down, the two almost fit perfectly two feet apart. Iggy leaned closer, and Max knew what he was going to do. She knew, and she wasn't going to stop it. Because maybe, just a little bit, she wanted him to do it. But that didn't mean she wasn't going to say something.

"Iggy." She breathed.

"Yeah?" Iggy asked, as if Max had asked if he wanted Nutella on his crackers.

"Is this stupid?"

Iggy chuckled, his goofy grin spreading across his face as he nodded fervently.

"Yeah. Really stupid."

He leaned in and kissed her, thinking that he was a moron, that she would never like him, that he should just take his cookies and go die in a hole as a hermit, but Max kissed him back.

Whoa. She _kissed him back_!

They separated, and Max laughed at the expression on Iggy's face. He was having a party in his brain, all of his senses dead and strangely blissful. It was an odd feeling.

He loved it.

"You're an idiot, Iggy." Max told him.

"But I'm _your_ idiot."

"Two words: Third. Strike." Max whispered, and pushed Iggy back, smiling. Iggy's happy expression turned to one of pure terror.

"Hey, Nudge!" Max called, grabbing Iggy's hand and smirking devilishly. "Get your shoes on. We're going shopping."

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><p><strong>:) Reviews are cookies made by Iggy. Thanks for reading.<strong>


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